I Am Evrae
by theweirdperson
Summary: Evrae, the guardian wyrm of Bevelle, tells her story.


Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy.

1.

I am Evrae.

Since I was created, I have faithfully guarded Bevelle, my city. I hover constantly above, my eyes searching constantly for those that would threaten it.

I was created from pyreflies, crafted by those who had skill manipulating them. Those ancients planted in me a duty to defend the city of Bevelle.

I destroy the fiends of the air, those bound to the land are eliminated by the Bevelle Guard. There is a great fiend, one they call Sin, who I long to sink my claws into. But it rarely comes near my city, and my duty requires me to remain.

I am restless, soaring over the majestic buildings. I watch the people of the city, my charges. Sometimes they look up at me, their expressions displaying wonder and fear.

I would never harm these people. I am like an aeon, though I have no fayth. I exist to protect.

I only harm those who would harm my city. I destroy without mercy those who threaten my charges.

I am Evrae, guardian wyrm of Bevelle.

2.

I fly over my city, scanning the skies. A bird-fiend succumbs to a single swipe of my claw.

There is great celebration among the people today. I see a young lady, wearing a beautiful white dress. She reminds me of those who first created me. I would watch her longer, but I must remain watchful and alert.

A strange noise reaches my ears. I turn to face it.

In the distance is an airship, a thing of old. I remember them dimly, from the times near my birth. They have not flown for a long time.

Inside myself, I can feel it: they are enemies, here to attack Bevelle.

A roar bursts from my lungs, and I swoop towards them.

Five humans and one Ronso stand on the deck of the airship. They watch as I approach.

The Ronso looks as steadfast as the mountain home of his people. He has the air of a guardian about him. We are kindred spirits, he and I. I regret that I must destroy him, as I do all other intruders.

The man who wears a red coat likewise shows no fear. He simply watches me. He is a man with a duty. His duty and mine lead us into conflict. This, too, I regret.

Another man, wielding a blitzball, is not so steady. The fear shows in his face as I near. Yet he is bound to his duty, and refuses to abandon it. I can respect this.

The youngest of the men is also duty-bound. Yet I sense something else in him... love. He fights for the one he loves. I am alone. I shall always be. In killing him, I shall leave his beloved distraught.

A woman wearing a black dress watches passively. There is fear in her, but it shows little. She calmly strokes a doll she holds.

But the youngest of them all is a teenaged girl. In her eyes show a little fear, great determination, and... wonder? She gazes at my flight, and thinks me to be terrifyingly beautiful.

Why am I thinking these things? They are enemies. I must destroy them!

I have never felt such regret at my duty. But I will follow it all the same.

I can do no other.

3.

We begin the fight.

The airship weaves, coming near to me, then far away.

I care little for their maneuvering, I can fight at either distance.

These are strong fighters, even the young girl. They attack me, I strike back. Finally, greatly wounded, I use one of the few magics given to me by those who created me: Haste. It grants me speed, and I swoop at them, slashing at them with my claws. I take a deep breath, preparing to let out a gust of poisonous breath.

The teenage girl says something in a language I do not know. The airship lurches, and begins to pull away. Hurriedly, I let out my breath, but it is too late; I am out of range, and the poison is blown away harmlessly by the wind. Snarling in frustration, I once more swoop over to the airship.

As they attack me, I finally realize something. I am no match for them.

This has never happened before! I am Evrae! Powerful guardian of Bevelle for generations! None can stand before my might and live... or so I had thought.

I am almost glad I won't have to destroy these people.

The red-coated man slashes at me with his huge sword. I can take no more. My beautiful wings dissolve, the color fading from my scales, and I fall.

I have failed. I will accept death as my consequence.

4.

My eyes open once again. I am not quite dead... nor am I alive. I am underwater. Here, I can fly even without wings.

I sense that I have been given a second chance. I am grateful. I will not fail again in my duty.

I watch, and wait.

Soon, my prey comes into view.

It is three of the six from before: the man with the blitzball, the younger man who fought for love, and the teenage girl. Perhaps, now that they are fewer in number, I will prevail.

Their earlier victory earned them a few more hours of life, no more.

Still, it is a shame.

At least I do not fight the Ronso or the red-coated man.

I look at the girl. Her eyes no longer show wonder; I have lost my beauty. Part of me mourns, but I push that thought away. I snarl, and dive at the younger man.

He dodges.

"It's undead!" the girl exclaims. She digs in her pouch, and throws something at me. Light sears through me. That which is life to most, is death to me. I shudder in pain.

The younger man does the same. I shudder once more, and feel myself dissolving into pyreflies.

5.

As I dissipated, I could not help but wish that I had been able to speak. Perhaps then I would have been able to tell my story. But to whom?

Perhaps the red-coated man, or the Ronso. They understand what it is to have a duty.

Or perhaps the girl? She thought I was beautiful, once...

It doesn't matter any more. I cannot speak to anyone.

Perhaps I will be remembered by someone, even after I am gone.

I hope so.

My last thought before disappearing is, _I forgive you. _


End file.
